“Her name’s Jello.”
“Yeah, Jello. J-e-l-l-o. She used to be as wiggly as jello. I lived up in Dignity Village. Somebody brought her up to the village and said, ‘if somebody here doesn’t take her, I’m just going to drop her someplace.’ So one of the villagers took her, but he didn’t really want her. He kept her locked up like 23 hours a day. She learned how to play ball by herself, locked up in this tiny little house. We thought we found a better home for her and they were even worse — the couple abused her.
So, we were going to move into a house and we asked if we could take her with us because she always wanted to come over to our place — when she got loose out of their place, she’d come to see us. My cat attacked large dogs except her and she would chase all the cats except him. She was the worst dog at Dignity. She jumped on people, she acted like she was gonna attack people. She was just wild. After having her for two weeks, she went from being the worst behaved dog to the best dog in the village and I hardly trained her. She just wants to please me. She wants to protect me. She absolutely hates raccoons and I really should have a picture of that too.
We have a lot of friends that are inflicted with mental illness like paranoid schizophrenia and bipolar disorder. They come and talk to us — we’re kind of like the counsellors of the village. She is the main counsellor. I’ll get them to pet her and it’s like the whole weight of the world comes off their shoulders. She’s down for a little while afterwards, but she does tend to recover really fast. Yeah… I don’t know what I’d do without her.